Page 21 of The Ruse of Romancing
As if conjured by my thoughts, an email notification popped up on my phone. While my grandma still served as the primary contact for the duplex, she forwarded me all maintenance requests. As I read the request I silently groaned. Looked like fate was throwing a small wrench in my plan: Dani’s internet was down, and I had to figure out a way to make the repair without her seeing me. What could possibly go wrong?
Chapter 10
Dani
I’dstayedintownlonger than I should have, wandering the bookstore for a bit before making it to the grocery store. And I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been hoping to run into Allen again, have our second exchange so I could give him my phone number.
It was a silly rule, not giving my number to someone after a single interaction, but one I was adamant about after some uncomfortable texts from past acquaintances who suddenly wanted to reconnect when they saw my name attached to a book on the bestsellers list. I’d lost track of the number of phone numbers I’d blocked this last year. It was amazing the things people would send you when they thought you had a bit of money and influence.
By the time I’d finished at the grocery store, my stomach was growling, and clouds had moved in, bringing a cool, drizzling rain. Feeling guilty for considering eating out again when I’d just bought a ton of food, I’d driven back to the rental determinedto fix dinner and settle in for an evening of writing. I was also hoping the internet would be working. I’d gotten a message from the duplex owner that Mason would get to work on my wifi issue immediately. Though when I got back to my temporary home it quickly became apparent that he hadn’t managed to fix it while I was in town, which would make research difficult but would drastically reduce my tendency to avoid writing by scrolling social media. I was in the middle of putting the groceries away and pondering on what I wanted to make when there was a knock on my door.
Pausing the audiobook on my phone, I ventured to the front door and looked through the peephole to see who waited on the other side. While I hadn’t told any of my new acquaintances in town where I was staying, I had a feeling it wouldn’t take much effort in a town this size for someone to figure out the address of my temporary home.
An unfamiliar, willowy blonde woman stood on the other side of my door wearing a short, low-cut dress that wasn’t exactly weather appropriate, the rain having shifted from a slight drizzle to a full-on downpour. She was huddled close to the door, her arms crossed over her ample chest in an effort to stay warm and out of the rain.
“Hi. Can I help you?” I asked as I opened the door and greeted the woman. I noted her car parked in the driveaway, a posh red sportscar currently occupying the middle of the space. What was with people in this town and their inability to park on one side of the drive, or even in the street? I was just grateful I didn’t have plans to leave the duplex again until morning, otherwise she’d have me trapped again.
If I didn’t know better, I’d suspect Avery of paying the good people of Cascade Harbor to keep me contained and focused on writing. When I had reception again, I’d have to ask her if she’d stooped to such dastardly levels.
The woman’s eyes swept over me, as if taking my measure before she spoke, her pinched expression telling me she was unimpressed by my ponytail, leggings, and worn sweatshirt that I’d changed into to combat the dip in temperature that came with the rain. Her voice carried a faint southern drawl as she spoke. “Well, hello. Is Mason around?”
Of course, she was here for my ladies’ man of a next-door neighbor.
“I’m sorry, but he lives on the other side of the duplex. I have no idea if he’s home or not,” I said, doing my best not to sound put out by this exchange. What was I, the man’s secretary?
Relief flickered across the woman’s face. “Oh, I should have known you were one of his renters!” She looked me up and down, her lip curling in disgust. “He doesn’t really go for the,” she seemed to search for the right word, “homey type. I’m Tiffany.”
She extended a well-manicured hand to shake, and I wondered what her reaction would be if I told her Mason had asked me out within minutes of meeting me, and I’d rejected him.
“I’m Dani,” I said, giving her hand as brief of a shake as I could manage while still being polite. Her hand was cold, and I could see goosebumps breaking out over her skin. I was very grateful for my sweatshirt and to be safely inside in this weather.
As if reading my mind, Tiffany glanced over my shoulder into the duplex, taking a step forward.
“Do you mind if I come in while I wait for Mason? I hadn’t counted on the rain, and he didn’t answer when I knocked.” She gave what was probably meant to be an inviting smile, but it looked far too fake and practiced. “Rain wreaks havoc on my hair.” She tossed her curls over her shoulder, and I noted the slightest traces of frizz.
I was amazed at the woman’s boldness, but if I didn’t give out my phone number the first time I met someone, there was no way I was letting a complete stranger into my temporary home. Especially one who judged me and clearly found me lacking, making me think even less of Mason if this was the type of woman he normally dated. I crossed my arms and stepped forward, doing my best to block any chance of entry into my rental. While I felt for the woman’s predicament, there was no way I was playing hostess while she waited for my bearded neighbor.
Also, I needed the man focused on my internet issues, not another romantic interlude.
“I’m sorry. I’m just getting ready for dinner,” I said, making a show of glancing down at my watch. My stomach growled, as if underscoring my words. It wasn’t a lie. She just didn’t need to know that I wasn’t actually planning on leaving the duplex to eat. “But you can park your car onhisside of the driveway and wait for him.”
She deflated.
“Of course you are. Tell Mason I stopped by. I’m in town just for today and would love to catch up.” Her words were laced with innuendo, leaving little question in my mind as to what “catching up” entailed. She’d no doubt “modeled” for him as well. I could just imagine the stream of women who’d graced the halls of the neighboring duplex unit and been dubbed Mason’s “inspiration.”
“I’ll be sure to let him know,” I said through clenched teeth with what I hoped resembled a smile more than a grimace. “Bye bye now.”
I slowly closed the door, forcing Tiffany back out into the weather. I watched her through the front window for a moment as she wandered over to the neighboring duplex one more time, assumingly to try knocking again. When her knock remainedunanswered, her shoulders slumped further and she slunk back to her car, sitting in it for a moment before driving away.
I gave an audible sigh of relief at her departure, and the grumbling of my stomach drew me back into the kitchen. I got to work pulling together ingredients to make one of my favorite go-to meals: fettuccine alfredo from a jar with a side salad. As I worked, my mind once again wandered to my neighbor.
I wanted to believe I was misjudging him, but so far I was less than impressed. And he hadn’t even stopped by to check out my internet issue.
My eyes snagged on the neon orange sticky notes I’d purchased at the grocery store. I’d selected the color partially because orange was my least favorite color but also because there was no way someone could miss a note in that particularly vibrant hue.
Pausing my meal preparation, I retrieved a pen from the spare bedroom and set to work telling Mason exactly what I thought of his nonexistent caretaking skills and my unexpected visitor. Though I’d hate to give up Joane’s baking so soon after discovering it, if I didn’t get internet soon, I would have Lucy book me a new rental.
Chapter 11
